


Wanted Men

by aralias



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aralias/pseuds/aralias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Deva realised it was too late and he’d already met Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted Men

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in the zine 'Deva's Desk' (2013).

“So, who’s next?” 

Deva hands over three colourless plastic Federation data-cards and Blake takes them and holds them up to the light. The first is a mafia man, someone he probably should take down but doesn’t have the time for at the moment. Let the real bounty hunters take care of that one. The second is more promising – ex-Federation Science Academy. Not political, but not in the Federation’s good books. Might be willing to consider an alternative. And the third... Ah, yes, the third is political. And very familiar. 

Blake glances sideways at Deva, who is pretending – yes, definitely _pretending_ – to be busy with a spreadsheet of some kind on his screen. He lowers the data cards, removes the scientist’s and hands it to Deva. 

“This one, I think.” 

“Not feeling up to the infamous mob boss?” 

“Perhaps after lunch,” Blake says, and Deva gives him a quick smile as he moves past towards the wall computer. Blake drops the other cards back onto the desk and watches Deva punch some incomprehensible selection of buttons. 

“I heard _he_ was dead,” Blake says casually when Deva glances round. He indicates the third card, now lying across the desk on top of the mafia file. 

“Yes,” Deva says. “Funny how rumour spreads, isn’t it? But the Administration seem to think he’s alive.” 

“I wonder what made them change their minds.” 

“I don’t know,” Deva says. “I don’t think they can have any real proof, or he’d already be in custody.” 

“Perhaps they’re just being careful.” 

“Yes. Perhaps,” Deva agrees. 

“If there’s no proof.” 

“Yet,” Deva says. 

Blake raises an eyebrow and, flustered, Deva says, “I heard... quite recently... that he might be on Gauda Prime.” 

Blake holds his gaze. “Funny,” he says pleasantly, “how rumour spreads.” He smiles and holds out a hand for the authorisation card that Deva has just generated. Deva looks at his hand, as though wondering whether it is reaching out to him, and then his brain seems to click back into gear. He removes the authorisation card from the computer and hands it to Blake. 

“Thank you,” Blake says, noticing Deva’s hands are trembling. Strangely the other man’s discomfort makes him feel better – he’s judged this one correctly. “If the information is correct, it shouldn’t take too long. I might even have time to look for your mafia boss. Or your terrorist leader,” he adds as he turns to go. 

“ _Blake_ ,” Deva calls after him desperately. 

Blake turns back. His heart is hammering at the sound of his name shouted in this Federation base, but he keeps his voice steady. “Yes, Deva.” 

“So, it’s true?” 

“Yes,” Blake says. 

“But,” Deva splutters, “you told me you thought Blake was a psychopath. You said he’d doomed countless worlds with his reckless and fruitless attacks against the Administration.”

“And you told me, confidentially, of course, that you thought he was probably a good man.” 

Deva considers this, as though he has only just remembered his own feelings on the matter. “Are you?” 

“Well, I haven’t told anyone about your treasonous sympathies, if that’s what you mean,” Blake says. He turns towards the door again. “I’ll be back in after lunch.” 

“Are you insane?” Deva demands. “You can’t just expect to come back in here. You can’t even stay on GP. You’re in the system now. There are photographs of you, descriptions-- Blake, the reward for you is over one million credits. Every bounty hunter on the planet will be after you.” 

“Unless you alter the records,” Blake says. 

Deva raises an eyebrow. “Now that is treason.” 

“Will you do it?” 

“I already have,” Deva says impatiently. “Twenty minutes before you arrived. That data card is the last remaining artefact with your face on it, but it’s impossible to alter the records as drastically as I did without leaving any trace. They’ll probably be here to arrest me within the hour, so if you don’t want to make my sacrifice worthless you’ll take my advice and you won’t come back.” 

“All right,” Blake says, “I won’t come back. Thank you, Deva. Incidentally, are you quite set on being arrested?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“There’s a base,” Blake explains, “not too far from here, under my jurisdiction. It's where all the people I, ah, didn't managed to track down have been hiding from the other bounty hunters. It's quite well staffed now, as you might imagine from my success rate. Not many computer technicians on this ex-farming world, though. _Except_ in the Federation bases.” 

Deva stares at him. "Have you been... recruiting me?" 

"We're not going to get far without a competent technician." 

"And you didn't think just to ask whether I might be interested?" 

"I had to know if I could trust you first." 

"Well, I don't know if I trust you," Deva says accusingly. "None of what you've told me up until this point has been true, Blake. I don't know anything about you, beyond what I've read, and even that could easily have been fabricated." 

"That isn't," Blake says, nodding towards the data card with his details on it. "I wouldn't need you if we had a computer technician competent enough to fake the records. The Administration will be here within the hour. So you have to make a choice now, Deva. Trust me, or turn me in and save yourself." 

Deva stares at him for another moment. "Well," he says, "we'd better be going then, hadn't we?"


End file.
